


Who do you think about? When you think about love?

by Zinnamom



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, set during season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 00:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15376815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinnamom/pseuds/Zinnamom
Summary: Owen's no good, very bad evening





	Who do you think about? When you think about love?

“Coffee?”

“About fucking time” yelled Owen. This case was an absolute nightmare. He couldn’t make sense of the data on the screen and the paper files were even less helpful. If someone died there ought to be a cause. But no, not in Torchwood, here you got a dozen bodies and no clue what killed them.

The door opened, Ianto walked in with the coffee and put it next to the frustratingly uninformative patient files. “You okay?”

“Do I bloody look like I’m okay?” Owen grimaced, pulling Ianto towards him, revelling in his warmth. The physical closeness chased away some of the bleak feelings caused by the umpteenth useless autopsy of this month.

“Sorry” he sighed, leaning into the heat, “These bloody deaths are really getting to me”. Owen should be getting straight back to work but needed; no, deserved something to look forward to. One hand caught Ianto’s cheek, tilted his head into a kiss.

“Come home with me tonight, yeah?” Shit, he didn’t mean to make it sound so uncertain. Made him seem like a bleeding heart.

Ianto gave him a half-smile in return. “Of course. Come and get me when you’re done.”  
Owen nodded, holding on to his hand. Ianto looked amused: “You’ll have to let go of me eventually, if you ever want to go home.” The unspoken ‘with me’ brightened Owen’s mood considerably.

“Yeah, Yeah” called Owen to Ianto’s retreating back “go back to the kitchen, teaboy”, but a pleased expression settled on his face as he returned his attention to the computer screen, sipping his perfectly made coffee.

Soon the coffee was gone, leaving Owen to stare at the screen. There was something different about the latest victim. The cause of death (or rather lack thereof) may have been the same but they didn’t fit the overall profile. There was not enough data to crack the case, not yet, but he was getting there. Feeling accomplished Owen mailed the information to Tosh, stored it on a memory stick and stood up surveying the lab. Shit, it was a mess. He should have cleaned earlier. It took him well over thirty minutes to make the room look presentable. He was beyond ready to leave. It was just…

He patted his pockets. Did he have his keys on him? Yes. His wallet? Also there. Everything seemed to be present.

The computer was off. His reports were safely stowed away in the drawer of his workstation.

What was he forgetting?

The empty cup could remain where it was. Give teaboy something to do. Everything else was where it should be. Was it the USB-device? No, he had that too.

It would come to him, no point in obsessing about it now.

He switched off the light. This late the hub was close to silent, only the computer terminals were still humming. Gwen and Tosh had left hours ago, only the light in the control room burned, which meant that Ianto was still here, as expected. Owen suddenly felt exhausted, his head was thrumming.

Time to follow the girls’ example. He trudged up the stairs, dropped of the USB in Jack’s office, and left. Home sounded good right now.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From his position at the computer Ianto heard the door close. Just one more click and… it was done. The CCTV of Owen’s lab was wiped, all footage of the past three months, irretrievably gone. He’d already retrieved his toothbrush and extra suit from the apartment.

Now he just had to collect the cup from Owen’s desk and put the pills away.

Ianto smiled.

Jack was back.


End file.
